Zeke followed the surly dwarf at a leisurely pace, having decided to accept the man’s roundabout invitation to visit his shop.

    For one, Gunner had assured him it was close by. For another, Zeke realized he could learn a lot from the dwarf. Despite Gunner’s dismissive attitude toward every craftsman he mentioned, Zeke could still gauge how much respect—or lack thereof—the man had for their abilities. If nothing else, the number of curse words he used to describe each one was a telling indicator.

    "Who’d be the best person to talk to if I need to buy resources in large quantities?" Zeke asked as they passed a group of miners. The men barely glanced up, their faces smudged with soot as they worked.

    Gunner turned halfway, giving Zeke a sidelong look. "Depends on what ye mean by large quantities. If it’s just a few wagon loads, I might be able to sort ye out myself."

    Zeke smirked faintly, shaking his head. Gunner’s knack for sniffing out business opportunities was almost impressive, but in this case, it was unlikely he could deliver.

    "Over a million gold’s worth," Zeke said, his tone casual.

    The effect was immediate. Gunner staggered to the side, his wheelbarrow teetering dangerously. "How much?" he barked, regaining his balance with an audible grunt.

    "Over a million," Zeke repeated, his expression calm.

    For a long moment, Gunner said nothing, his eyes fixed forward as he resumed pushing the wheelbarrow in silence. Eventually, he muttered, "Aye... that’s a wee bit outside my range." The words sounded forced, as if admitting them caused him physical discomfort.

    Zeke chuckled softly but refrained from calling out the obvious bluff. "That’s unfortunate," he said, feigning disappointment. "Do you know anyone who could handle an order like that?"

    Gunner fell silent, his brow furrowed as though weighing his words. Finally, he let out a low grunt, signaling that he’d made up his mind. "There aren’t many who could handle an order that size," he admitted, his tone cautious. "But this ain’t the place to be discussing such matters. Let’s get to my shop first."

    Zeke nodded in agreement, opting not to press further. As long as Gunner could provide him with a lead or two, the detour would be worth the time. The pair continued on in silence, Zeke using the opportunity to take in his surroundings.

    While the city itself was impressive with its bustling streets and industrious energy, Zeke found himself captivated by what lay beneath the surface, revealed only by his Spatial Awareness. The true marvel of Stonehearth unfolded underground. The entire mountain was riddled with an intricate web of pipes and tunnels, a network so vast it seemed almost alive.

    Thousands of interconnected conduits crisscrossed through the rock, forming a labyrinth that would be a logistical nightmare for anyone else. Yet somehow, it all worked seamlessly. As far as Zeke could tell, every building had access to fresh water, clean air, and a steady supply of heat in one form or another.

    Where the resources originated or how they were distributed remained a mystery, but there was no denying the genius behind the system. If nothing else, Zeke had to admit that the dwarfs’ reputation for ingenuity was well-earned.

    "We’re ’ere," Gunner announced, steering his cart toward a sturdy doorway. A small ramp led up to the entrance, allowing him to push the wheelbarrow seamlessly over the threshold and into the building.

    Zeke followed, stepping inside and taking in the space. To his surprise, the city—despite being designed primarily for dwarven use—was remarkably accommodating for someone of his height. He had expected cramped quarters, low ceilings, and narrow doorframes that would force him to duck constantly. Yet, none of those concerns had materialized.

    In fact, the opposite was true. The dwarves seemed to have a penchant for building things on a grand scale. Most doorways were tall enough to fit three dwarves stacked atop one another, and the ceilings soared high overhead. The rooms themselves felt almost cavernous, leaving Zeke to wonder if such spaciousness was truly necessary or simply a quirk of dwarven architectural style.

    Zeke glanced around the room and immediately recognized it as a workshop. Unlike specialists who focused on a single craft, Gunner appeared to be a jack of all trades. The room was equipped with a forge and anvil, a rune-carving table, and various engineering projects scattered across workstations lining all four walls.

    "So," Zeke began, snapping Gunner out of his trance. "Who do I need to talk to in order to find a large-scale business partner?"

    Gunner reluctantly tore his gaze from the parchment where the enchanted feather continued its meticulous work. Meeting Zeke’s eyes, he let out a thoughtful grunt. "If yer lookin’ fer someone who can trade on the level of a merchant lord, there’s only a handful in all of Stonehearth. But it won’t do ye any good to track ’em down."

    Zeke frowned. "Why not?"

    "It’s not how business is done down here," Gunner replied with a casual shrug.

    Zeke sighed, his frustration creeping into his voice. "I thought dwarves were supposed to be less rigid."

    Gunner raised a bushy brow, an amused glint in his eyes. "Rigid? I wouldn’t call us rigid. But most dwarves won’t do business with strangers, lad—especially not on a handshake deal, let alone some fancy contract."

    Zeke tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "What’s wrong with a contract?"

    Gunner extended his hand, palm up, as if inviting Zeke to shake it. "Do ye know what this is?" he asked.

    "A handshake?" Zeke replied, his tone edged with confusion.

    Gunner scoffed, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Among dwarves, it’s a bond, lad. A word given, sealed by a firm shake, is as good as any writ."

    Zeke nodded slowly, his brow furrowing in thought. "So, no contracts at all?"

    Gunner shrugged again. "It’s not that we can’t use ’em. It’s just... words carry weight. A dwarf who breaks his handshake oath? He’s finished. Our reputation is our wealth, and no bit of parchment can replace that."

    The explanation made sense in its own way, but Zeke couldn’t help but feel the weight of an unfamiliar culture pressing down on his plans. If trust was a prerequisite for partnership, then earning it might prove to be a more significant challenge than he’d anticipated.

    "How hard would it be to gain their trust?" Zeke asked, already dreading the answer.

    Gunner grinned. "Hard for some, effortless for others," he said, speaking cryptically as he rummaged through his pockets. He soon pulled out what he was looking for and handed it to Zeke. "But you’re in luck," he added. "This could be your best chance to make an impression."

    Zeke took the object from Gunner’s hand. It was a slightly crumpled piece of paper. He unfolded it, smoothing out the creases before reading it carefully. It appeared to be a flyer promoting an event called the Brewers Festival.

    "What’s this?" he asked.

    "Only one of the biggest events in Stonehearth," Gunner said, a hint of pride in his voice. "All the big shots will be there. If you impress them at the festival, I wouldn’t be surprised if they came to you with a deal of their own."

    Zeke’s gaze returned to the flyer, his eyes catching the date. The festival was just two days away. Now only one question remained. "How do I make an impression?"

    Gunner grinned. "Skill and Guts, lad."